


time to collect

by mhunter10



Category: Shameless (US)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Bipolar Ian, Blow Jobs, Comfort, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, Hand Jobs, Kissing, M/M, Sexual Content, Terry is dead, sammi is gone, set after 5x12
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-16
Updated: 2017-02-16
Packaged: 2018-09-24 18:59:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,421
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9780695
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mhunter10/pseuds/mhunter10
Summary: when you make a deal with a milkovich, you better be damn sure you're going to keep it...or else~or ian makes a promise and doesn't deliver, thus making mickey come for him...





	

Mickey took a drag from the cigarette hanging from his mouth, as he crossed the street. His sneakers scraped against the wet ground, kicking up gravel and stepping on cracks, on his way to a place he could probably get to in his sleep by now. As the familiar street signs and houses came into view, he picked up his pace. He couldn't help it. It had been two weeks. Two fucking weeks. He'd waited, pretty fucking patiently if you asked him, and now time was up. And yet there he was standing there with his dick in his hand, literally and figuratively, like an idiot. He never liked to be kept waiting. It was unprofessional, but it was also just fucking rude. He prided himself on only getting in it with people he knew could deliver now. He'd stepped up his game significantly and everyone knew he meant business. Didn't matter what the deal was, Mickey always kept his side; something his father beat into him, but something he kept after he died. You didn't get far in this world without standards. Bottom line, Mickey always got his.

This case was no different, but he couldn't shake the feeling deep in his gut that maybe he shouldn't have even agreed in the first place. It was too late now, as he rounded the corner and looked down the sidewalk to his destination. He climbed the stairs and knocked on the door. He threw his cigarette over the rail and took a deep breath, trying to calm himself. He wasn't mad. He couldn't be, but he wasn't happy either. He sighed, clenching his fists. He could hear the usual noise from within. The door opened.

"Hi, Liam, uh...Ian home?" he questioned the little boy standing in the doorway looking at him. He nodded his head, pointing his little finger somewhere inside. "Can I come in?" Another nod, but this time a small smile just for him. Mickey smiled back and followed him, closing the door behind him. He walked through the house, past Carl on the couch and to the kitchen. Ian was at the counter, pouring juice into a cup. Liam stood by his leg, curling a little hand around it. When Ian turned around, he startled a bit before relaxing.

"Hey," Ian mumbled quietly, turning away again and putting the juice away. He put a few dishes into the sink and cleared some crumbs off the counter.

"You gonna say something, or what?"

Ian sighed, looking down at his dirty socks. "I gotta put him down." He picked up his brother and started up the stairs.

Mickey followed behind him. "Not what I meant," he said, as they entered the boys' room. Ian sat the kid on his little bed and started undressing him. He still wouldn't look at him. Mickey eyed the prescription bottles lining the window where it used to be small toys. Mickey sat down on the bed he's spent so much time in just a year ago. "Ian?"

"Hmm?" Ian was pretending to be distracted, pulling pajamas over the little boy's head and making him giggle.

"Ian, I been waitin' on you all day."

"I said I needed time," Ian reminded him.

"Yeah, two weeks, I know. Two weeks is up, man."

Ian didn't say anything. Instead he tucked his brother in, pulling the covers up and kissing his head. "Night, Liam."

Mickey scrubbed a hand down his face, but then Ian was grabbing him by the arm and pulling him from the room. He shoved him into the guest room that was more like the communal room, and shut the weird plastic curtain. He turned a lamp on and turned back to him, looking tired.

"What? So, you're mad I wasn't on your doorstep at sunrise?" he crossed his arms and kept his distance. "Why are you here?"

Mickey rolled his eyes. This is exactly what he thought would happen. "Were you even going to come back if I hadn't fucking come over here?"

Ian shrugged, looking unsure. He sat down on the bed and ran his hands through his hair. "I don't know."

Mickey felt his heart drop. It didn't feel quite as bad as that day two weeks ago when Ian had returned only to dump him, but it was pretty close. He'd been so afraid that agreeing to stay apart for even longer would fuck him over again, and Ian wasn't doing anything to prove him wrong. The deal had been time; time to think, heal, make some decisions. They'd spent hours talking before and that was what Ian had come up with, and Mickey didn't want to lose him again. Sammi had finally left for good once Chuckie and Carl were cleared, but Ian had been paranoid after telling her too much about what happened in the army. And mostly it was the bipolar giving him nightmares and invisible demons, but there was some guilt and resentment there too. So he ran like he always did, only it wasn't to Mickey. he was already overwhelmed, but Monica had made things worse in her own special way, filling his head with fear and doubts. Then came the grenade when he came back and Mickey had run to him. He's felt like he's been trying to keep the pin in it ever since, and it was attached to Ian. He could walk away again and kill Mickey where he stood. So he was careful, listened, gave him space, whatever he wanted just like always. He was tired. He knew Ian needed to wrap his head around so many other things besides him now, but he'd grown selfish after being without for so long. He needed his fix. The deal was made and Ian had left him hanging.

"Ian, you promised...you said..you--"

"I know what I said, Mick, okay? I just...I've fucked up so much, I didn't think..." he sighed, trailing off and looking down at his hands. The flesh on his burned hand was mostly healed.

Mickey sat down next to him. He wanted to touch him so badly, but he needed to know if it would be the last time. "Didn't think what, Ian?"

Ian finally looked up at him, his green eyes looked pale and reflected just how exhausted he really was. The meds weren't all to blame. He'd been through so much, Mickey couldn't blame him for looking run down even after resting. And if Mickey was honest, he felt the same. Chasing was just as tiring as running. His father made it his job to go after anyone that did their family wrong, and he had no problem giving people what came to them. But Ian had always been different. He wasn't a job, or his livelihood, but he was his saving grace. No money or drugs or lifted shit would ever make him feel the way he felt about Ian, and that hadn't changed for any reason, even now with Ian telling him...telling him something he might have heard before. But they had made a deal and Ian had avoided him. He wasn't going to forget about it. He couldn't let it slide. Ian owed him. It was time to pay up.

"Didn't think it would matter," he admitted, their eyes locking. 

Mickey's eyebrows went up. "The fuck do you mean? Been jumping through hoops for your ass since day one, walking through fire and bullshit, giving you everything and more, and you didn't think it would matter if you fucking kept your promise for once?" His eyes stung. He blinked quickly, wiping furiously at them. "The fuck, Ian?"

Ian shook his head, reaching for him. "No, Mickey, just...you don't get it."

Mickey scoffed. "Oh, I don't get it, huh?"

"No." Ian had the nerve to chuckle, then realized his mistake when Mickey got up and started to angrily pace. "Mick, wait stop. Alright?"

"Why should I do anything for you, Ian? So you can throw it back in my face, and laugh, and fucking...dangle me like I'm nothing?"

Ian shook his head profusely, stepping closer.

"Don't!"

Ian stopped, shoulders dropping like every move he made drained his energy. He looked at Mickey, a smile fighting its way to his lips.

"Unbelievable." Mickey turned away. He wanted to leave and never come back, give the fucker a piece of his own medicine. But Ian had made it pretty clear that it didn't matter what he did. It was obvious now he needed to pull the pin for himself and hope he survived the blast without losing himself completely. But he could feel Ian approaching from behind him, getting closer until he could feel his heat on his back. Something kept him frozen to the spot, though.

"Big, bad Mickey Milkovich," he said, "...should've known you'd come looking for me."

Mickey hates that he shivers when he feels his breath on his neck. "So, this was a trick? I'm nothing but a pawn to you?" he tries to spit it, but it doesn't come out the way he wants. Ian's hand touches his hip and his breath catches.

"Mickey, I was giving you an out."

That doesn't make any sense.

Mickey turns around and looks him in his face. "What? Like...like I'd--"

"Dump me? Yeah. Thought I needed to think, but when you gave me that even after everything I've done? I knew once you had some time to yourself, you would realize and wouldn't want me back. I wouldn't want me back."

Mickey shook his head, stepping back. "Ian, no. I...I want you. I don't care about any of that shit. None of it. I only care about you, that's why I agreed to the break. I thought it would help."

"Me too...and it sort of did until I started thinking about the damage I've done to us...to you. I was afraid if I came back that you would be the one to leave me. Once I realized that, I figured what was the point, you know?"

"That's crazy," Mickey says before realizing what he's said, but Ian nods. "Look, Ian, these past two weeks have given me time to think about some things too. We've been like this so long...me giving and you taking, that I thought it was okay. i thought it was normal because I've never had this with anyone before. And I never thought I deserved anything else, so I took it, but I wanted to. We both kind of fucked us up with our own shit, and if it was anyone else I would've walked a long time ago. But when you said you would come back, you made a promise, Ian. And I expected you to finally keep it, to finally show me..give me what I've always given you. I wanted you to keep it, and you didn't."

Ian hung his head. "Fuck, I'm so sorry, Mickey. Even when I try to do right by you, it's wrong."

Mickey came closer to him and picked his head up by his chin. When Ian met his eyes, he couldn't resist kissing him gently on the lips. "Don't be sorry. I'm not here to hear that, I'm here to collect," he says.

It takes a beat, but Ian's mouth twitches because he gets it, he understands. This is his last chance to do things right, to change the pattern they've been stuck in. He knows Mickey is serious and he wants to prove that he can be what Mickey has been for him.

"Can you deliver?" Mickey raised an eyebrow.

Ian nodded, wrapping his arms around Mickey's waist. "I can do that."

When their lips crash together, it's exactly what Mickey had been hoping for when he found Ian on the front steps that day. He's been wanting it for two weeks and couldn't wait a second more. He wrapped his hands around Ian's neck and brought him closer, brushing his cheeks and hair as they kissed. It was hard and raw and heating up quickly. Mickey moaned when Ian's hands trailed down and squeezed his ass. He hadn't touched him like this since their date to Sizzler's, and he hadn't realized just how insane he'd been going without it. And Ian was just as eager for it, grabbing at him and groaning and pulling them impossibly tighter together. Then he was walking them to the bed and they fell onto it, not even separating. They made out for what seemed like hours, but it was just minutes of Ian mouthing at his jaw and neck and chin and everywhere. Ian removed both of their shirts, then reached for Mickey's pants. He unbuttoned them quickly and yanked them down to the tops of Mickey's thighs, exposing his lower half.

"Gonna make you come for me," Ian said hotly over the head of Mickey's dick.

"Fuck, Ian," Mickey panted, fingers finding red hair, as pink lips wrapped around him in a wet vice. "Oh, shit!" His hips bucked when Ian went lower, taking him in deeper quicker than he was ready for. He fisted his hair with both hands. Ian hummed around him, sucking and hollowing his cheeks. He bobbed his head a few times before sliding off with a pop. His mouth was sloppy and open, as he caught his breath, darting his tongue out to tease the main vein running up his shaft. Mickey couldn't take it. Ian looked so beautiful...and fucking hot.

"Love you," Ian said, stopping to make sure Mickey heard him.

Mickey's head had been back and his eyes closed, legs shaking when Ian pumped him in a tight grip. He looked at him now and nodded, letting him know he knew. "Don't stop...don't leave..."

"Never leaving you...promise," Ian said, sinking back down onto his boyfriend. He sucked and licked, massaging Mickey's balls and dipping a finger lower to play with his hole.

"Jesus, Ian! I'm...close...I'm so close!"

"Come for me, Mickey...come for me, yeah, that's it," Ian encouraged, sucking hard on the tip.

Mickey yanked him up and jammed his tongue in his mouth, tasting himself and Ian. Ian continued to stroke him until he was spewing his load between them.

Ian lay beside him, rubbing his arm, as he came down, but never letting go of his lips. They kissed until they couldn't breathe.

"I love you," Mickey whispered, their foreheads pressing together.

They smiled at each other.


End file.
